


Sapphires to Rubies

by Pherae



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Fluff, M/M, There's gonna be a lot of emotions in here I hope you know, but mostly just, please protect these poor elves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-20 02:27:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5988979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pherae/pseuds/Pherae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A variety of drabbles, primarily featuring Estinien and Aymeric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wear your dang coat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! I'm still not too familiar with using this site yet, but *clenches fist* boy do I try, here's hoping everything will look fine in here. 
> 
> That said! I've fallen head over heels for Estinien/Aymeric so I do write little drabbles for them sometimes and I so wish I could write longer than just small drabbles, say a full length fic, but sadly I don't have much time for that currently. Though I'm always open for drabble requests, so feel free <3
> 
> Most of the fics in here will have a T rating, but the M is there for safety reasons.

“I believe it best to at least take a coat with you, Estinien.”

Aymeric stood directly in front of the dragoon, a thick coat folded nicely in his arms as he stared the other down. It was going to rain, this he knew by the ominous dark clouds looming in the distance, growing ever closer with each moment that passed. After consulting with the skywatcher earlier in the morning, they too confirmed his fears - a frozen mix of rain and snow was headed towards the Holy See, and would arrive before the evening.

Showers, and perhaps thunderstorms were rare as is in Ishgard - but when they did happen, the rains were frigid, and brought forth a dangerously slick sheet of ice on the ground the next morning.

Estinien gave nothing but an unamused grunt in response, his head turning to glance at the far wall away from Aymeric, almost as if he were admiring the masonwork of the stone.

“Rain is nothing new to me. I’ve been through it many a time without a coat, and this will be no different.” Though he appreciated the offer from his concerned Lord Commander, coats were… not something he often took pleasure in wearing.

Not only that, but trying to fit one over his armor? Well, that was near impossible. As well as highly impractical, due to the sheer amount of spikes and horns.

“Estinien, please-” A loud huff from the dragoon cut Aymeric off, his armor clanking against the stone flooring as he turned to grab his lance from its resting place against the wall, securing it to his back.

“I’ll return later," Estinien growled, trudging towards the exit with nary a single glance back to Aymeric, "keep that coat for someone who actually needs it.”

Estinien was gone through the door before Aymeric could even deliver a line of protest, and once he was sure the other was fully out of listening distance, he gave a loud, infuriated sigh. Honestly, he could be frustrating to deal with sometimes. Cold, blunt, and entirely stubborn. Even if Aymeric had learned to deal with it by now, it did little to nullify the worries eating away at the back of his mind.

Defeated, he trudged over to his desk and flopped the coat messily over the back of the seat before resuming his nightly paperwork.

\--

It rained for what seemed like ages. Two days, if Aymeric was counting properly - frigid rains that left the streets of The Holy See seeming like a ghost town as most flocked to seek shelter and hide away inside their own homes. He didn’t blame them, for what it’s worth. Here he was doing exactly that, arms propped on the windowsill as he watched the downpour in silence.

Relaxing as it was, he was still worried about his dear friend. The tea he carefully swirled in his mug was even incapable of keeping his mind fully calmed, despite the usual relaxed expression he wore. Snow was one thing, but frigid rain was another. Getting dried and then warmed after being out in it for so long was a difficult task - he’d only had the fortune to partake in it once in his life, and it wasn’t quite an event he’d like to relive anytime soon.

He only hoped Estinien was faring better than he did at that time, the memory of numb hands and freezing bones all too familiar in the back of his mind.

“Lord Commander?”

The sound of a voice from the doorway called him back to reality, his head slowly turning to greet the other with a small smile.

Lucia was walking towards him briskly, a handful of papers in her arms, tied neatly together in twine. “Seeing as how these need to be sent off, I’ll be needing to take my leave of you early tonight. Everything else has already been tended to, the knights are firmly in check, and I’m going to make one last round in the barracks to ensure that things are going smoothly before I turn in for the evening.”

Aymeric gave a slow nod, following it with a slight wave of dismissal with his hand. “Thank you, Lucia. Get some rest.”

He resumed work on his tea, which he noted was now nearly gone, and waited patiently for the usual retreating footsteps as she would turn to leave.

However, that moment never came, and Lucia spoke once more after a minute of silence. “A moment if I may, Lord Commander?”

This time, Aymeric placed his mug gently down on the sill and stood tall to face her. A nod was her sign to continue. Lucia cleared her throat.

“I… as well as the other knights, have noticed you haven’t been properly resting as of late. May I ask if something is troubling you?” Worry was evident in her tone, and quite frankly, the question was one that had been asked to him many times in the past.

A smile found its way to his face, though there was little he could do to hide the exhaustion his cold eyes carried. “The downpour has been pulling me down, I’m afraid. Weather changes tend to… deter my usual mood. You’ve nothing to worry about, for I’ll be fine as soon as it clears.”

Lucia quirked a brow at his reasoning but gave a slow nod all the same. Readjusting the papers in her hands, her eyes didn’t once glance away from him. In fact, Aymeric could tell she didn’t fully believe him - despite what she wanted him to think. It wouldn't be the first time, nor the last, that Aymeric tried to shoo the subject of his health away from her in order to put her worries at ease. Yet, worry she did, and he knew that fact all too well despite his efforts. Lucia was sharp, but the Lord Commander was an expert at reading her eyes that showed more emotion than her demeanor would let on.

For a moment, Lucia closed her eyes, before shaking her head in defeat.

“Very well. So long as you’re taking proper care of yourself. Pray, get some rest tonight, and preferably soon.” She gave a quick bow and a few parting words of dismissal before finally leaving out the door. Aymeric knew there would be a freshly brewed mug of tea on his desk in the morning, as well as an appetizing meal, rather than the usual piece of bread he would steal away for himself.

Lucia was one to spoil him when life wasn’t treating him the best, and oh, how he was thankful for her - though she may consider her actions to be small, they did wonders for his mental, and physical health.

Slowly, he sank into his seat, pulling the chair close to the desk as he propped a single arm up in favor of resting his head in his palm. This paperwork wasn’t going to finish itself, and despite his racing thoughts of worry about Estinien, he needed to focus. Focus, take a few deep breaths, and pick up his quill and write.

Which he did.

Which, he tried.

There were a few signed signatures on a couple select papers that he managed, but after that, he once again found himself at a complete loss. With a frustrated sigh, Aymeric’s face fell into his hands. This was near impossible. His mind was too far gone, the drive to finish this forsaken paperwork being fully nullified by sheer worry for the stubborn dragoon.

He’d given up on trying to get this done right now.

After dousing the lanterns around him, Aymeric left his Seat in favor of returning to his quarters for the evening. Perhaps laying in bed would do him good. Sleep was needed, he noted, given the way his eyelids were sagging and his eyes stung. It was only then that he realized he had maybe three hours, give or take, of sleep in the past two nights.

After removing his armors and leaving nothing but his pants and short sleeve shirt beneath, he carefully stoked the fireplace to keep the embers burning, before curling up in his bed and closing his eyes. There was nothing to worry over. His mind attempted to continue reminding himself of this - Estinien often took several days for his missions to be complete. It was the norm, even during their days as Temple Knights. Everything would be fine, he repeated, his mind slowly working its way into a soothing quiet as sleep gripped at him.

It was perhaps fifteen minutes later, and on the edge of sleep, when he heard the telltale creak of his door opening. Assuming it to be Lucia delivering a nightly snack to his quarters, as well as checking on the fire, he made no move to acknowledge the presence, eyes remaining gently shut. That was, until the door was slammed closed as something heavy thudded against it, jarring him awake as his eyes snapped open.

Raising himself onto his arms, Aymeric’s eyes found home on someone that made his heart nearly stop.

Estinien, and looking completely worse for wear.

Even from here, he could tell the dragoon was shivering, soaked to the bone despite his armor, and struggling to keep himself upright, a single hand resting on the door’s handle to keep him steady. Aymeric flew from the bed and was at his side in a second, gently grabbing his armored hands and resisting the urge to hiss and pull back when he felt just how frigid they were. Drawing Estinien over towards the fire, he urged him to sit on the couch as he grabbed a blanket from a nearby drawer.

“I told you.” Aymeric scolded, placing the blanket beside the dragoon as he moved to help him out of his armor, piece by piece, “I told you to wear a coat and be better prepared for the downpour.”

The helmet was the first piece to be removed, only so he could see the pained flicker of Estinien’s eyes as he looked everywhere but the other elezen, teeth chattering. “I didn’t… I didn’t think-”

“Aye, you didn’t think.” Aymeric snapped, finally ridding Estinien of his chestpiece with minor help and tossing it to the floor with a thud. The greaves followed suite, as did the pants, until Estinien wore nothing and was reduced to a shivering mess as he clutched at his arms. “Ishgardian rains are never to be taken lightly, Estinien.”

The Lord Commander’s voice was cold, though his hands were gentle as he wrapped Estinien in the blanket he had previously retrieved. Thankful for the article of warmth, the dragoon gave a pleased sigh. It wasn’t long before Aymeric stood again, retreating to the adjacent bathroom before returning with towel in hand, seating himself next to him.

“I was worried sick.” He began, fingers easing the tie from Estinien’s hair, and the dragoon fully allowed him, his wet hair falling just above his shoulderblades. “I thought something may have happened to you. That you’d frozen thanks to the awful weather. That you would have perished, and we’d have no word of what happened.”

Estinien’s eyes trained on the crackling fire as Aymeric took the towel to his hair, rubbing his scalp and drying it the best he could. He stood still, allowing the fire to warm his nearly numb legs as his fingers gripped tight at the woolen blanket pulled around him. He deserved this scolding, he knew - but it wasn’t often that Aymeric got this angry at him. Just the way his voice hissed with each word, and the powerful rumble of command that his tone held… Estinien’s eyes narrowed into a near pout.

It was his fault for refusing to listen in the first place.

“I apologize.”

Aymeric’s hands stopped for a moment as he stared at the other, eliciting a sigh from his lips. Pulling the towel away, he carded his fingers through the other’s hair, and Estinien leaned slightly into the touch as they moved closer to his face, desperate for the warmth they provided. The other elezen took notice of this, running the back of his fingers across the cold surface of his cheek before cupping it gently.

There was silence between them then, the only sounds being the crackling of the fire and the pelting rain against the thin windows that lined the room.

That was, until Estinien gave a surprised grunt as Aymeric hoisted himself up and onto his lap, arms wrapped firmly around him as he buried his face against his shoulder. It took a moment of struggling with the blanket thanks to the added weight against his body, but he eventually freed his hands enough to wrap his arms around the other in return. Leaning back against the couch, he reveled in the warmth brought from the fire and the body heat from his partner.

“Are you getting warmer, now?” Aymeric’s voice was quiet, calm, and thankfully a complete 180 from his earlier tone as he nuzzled his face against Estinien’s neck, the cold skin slowly turning warm the longer he held himself there.

He received a pleased hum in response, and soon the blanket was pulled taut around both of them, Estinien gripping tight and holding Aymeric as close to him as physically possible.

Estinien could feel the way the other’s lips curled into a smile as a gentle kiss was placed against his neck, earning a shiver and a huff as warmth drew to his face.

Aymeric was always capable of doing this to him. It didn’t take much to warm himself when the other was around, especially when pressed this close. Given that he was naturally a bit warmer blooded than the Lord Commander, he never truly found it strange, and it was certainly not something unwelcome.

“I can feel my legs again, if it’s any consolation.” Estinien felt the quiet puff of laughter against his neck, a small smile curling at his lips as he traced circles against Aymeric’s back with his fingers. “I’m beginning to think, mayhap, you serve a better heater than the fire.”

The elezen in his lap grinned, shifting so their faces were aligned and eyes locked. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Gently, Aymeric pressed their lips together, a single hand finding home on Estinien’s cheek as the kiss was eagerly returned by the dragoon. It didn’t take much to flood more warmth to the nearly frozen dragoon’s cheeks. Expertly gliding his lips across his lover’s seemed to put Estinien at ease, with the way his limbs relaxed and felt less rigid as time pressed on.

Admittedly, holding him in a kiss and a firm hug was one way to calm him down and warm him the fastest, as Aymeric quickly found. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t relax him as well, however, as the comfort he currently felt just by being in Estinien’s arms was more than anything else could provide him with. Those arms only wound around him tighter as his lips pressed more firm against his partner’s, pressing, and holding, until pulling away with a final nip to his bottom lip.

If he was honest, it was a little difficult to stifle the laugh that threatened to emerge as he saw the tips of Estinien’s ears burning as red as his cheeks, eyes half lidded and staring fully in wonder at the one in his lap. It was cute, and the will to resist placing another quick kiss against his lips was thrown fully out the window. They both needed this, as was apparent by how quickly Estinien returned the peck with one of his own.

“Now?” Aymeric’s voice as a quiet whisper against Estinien’s lips as he repeated his earlier question. “Are you warm?”

The question was met with Estinien pressing their foreheads together, drinking in the steel blue gaze of Aymeric’s eyes. A warm smile tugged at his lips, one he’d only truly permit his lover to see, yet one only said lover was capable of pulling from him. Truly, everything about Aymeric seemed to shoot a surge of warmth through the dragoon’s body, be it his calming gaze or the way his arms wound firmly, and protectively around him.

Estinien gave a pleased sigh, “yes, quite so. The chill in my body is completely gone, thanks to you.”

“Ah, good.” A quick response, met with Aymeric gently bumping their noses together. He moved himself then, pulling his legs up against Estinien’s side and shifting his body against the dragoon as he settled his head against his shoulder. His smile refused to fade, even as he closed his eyes and focused purely on his partner, feeling the soft rise and fall of his chest as he took even breaths.

Estinien settled a hand against Aymeric’s arm, trailing it lightly up and down in a comforting gesture as his head tilted back to rest against the couch. His own eyes were falling shut. This current position, while he couldn’t move much lest he risk moving Aymeric around, was fully comfortable.

Actually… much like the other, he hadn’t received much sleep the previous nights, either.

“Estinien?” The whisper of his name earned a grunt from the dragoon, whose arm shifted to pull Aymeric just a tad closer, if it would even allow. “Welcome home, and…”

“And?”

Aymeric gave a huff of laughter, “next time, wear a coat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Then they both fell asleep on the couch after Estinien glared at him for that remark, Lucia came into the room in the morning to find them both curled up together and proceeded to give them judging stares while she placed Aymeric’s breakfast on the table the end.
> 
> MOSTLY inspired by my friend's Estinien in game that paraded around Coerthas during blizzards while not wearing a shirt and nearly giving my Aymeric a heart attack because of it.
> 
> You know who you are. You stop that. Right now. You're grounded.


	2. Broken Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events in the Vault, a knight needs time to heal. Time to mourn. Strong as he may be, even Aymeric is prone to stumble and fall occasionally. 
> 
> Thankfully, Estinien will be there to catch him.
> 
> This chapter contains HEAVY SPOILERS for the Vault onwards. If you have yet to reach that part of the story, please turn back! Unless you don't mind spoilers, that is. In which case, by all means, but I did warn you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Some wounds do not heal." -Aymeric

Truthfully, Aymeric was good at hiding his feelings.

It was one of the things that Estinien took notice of first about him. There were rarely moments where the Lord Commander would actually seem down, or even angered about a particular situation. He handled things with poise, most times. Others, he would handle with a few barked orders in a stern tone, and it would serve well enough to spur his knights into getting the job done for him.

Rare it was to see him anything but calm, the visage of a leader taking priority over all else about him.

That was until now, perhaps, when Estinien held him tight in his arms and let the poor man wallow in his agony. He couldn’t tell if there were tears being shed, given the way Aymeric had his face craned against his neck at such a way that his eyes were fully hidden, his fingers curled tight into the small grooves on the back of his armor to hold, and press him there against him. There wasn’t a chance in the world the dragoon was going to move regardless, but he stood firm and still in order to make the other feel more secure, arms wound around him and an armored hand gently trailing up and down his back in attempt to soothe.

Haurchefant was gone, and despite the composed front Aymeric had worn in the presence of his friends originally, it was now shed in favor of momentary weakness.

Aymeric blamed himself - it wasn’t something he immediately outright admitted, but the moment the two were alone behind closed doors, he allowed his shoulders to sag and his expression to shift into one of exhaustion and sorrow. All it took was a small whisper of self blame from the Lord Commander before the dam broke, and Aymeric found himself admitting every ounce of his anguish to his partner. The dragoon was at his side and wrapping him in his arms in a heartbeat.

If only he was better at comforting others and easing away their problems, perhaps he wouldn’t currently be holding his slightly shaking Lord Commander and awkwardly trying to find ways to calm him down.

Estinien opened his mouth, trying to will words to emerge, but found himself once more at a loss. He grit his teeth, unsure of what to do or say to make the other feel better. Not only had Aymeric endured physical torture in the depths of the Vault, but now he was faced with it emotionally, and no amount of words or actions would cause the pain to simply disappear.

The Azure Dragoon knew of this emotional pain firsthand, and he wasn’t about to tell Aymeric that his solution to it was to ‘go turn your anger into power’. Nay, then he’d be no better than he was. Driven by revenge and angrily thrusting a spear into the heart of every dragon and beast he found.

Aymeric was too kind hearted to take that route, and Estinien wasn’t about to let him regardless.

“Why did I think, for even a moment… that marching there on some… some _foolish_ notion of truth seeking would bring about a positive result…?” Aymeric’s voice was hoarse, undertones of venom staining his words as he spoke. “He’s dead. Lord Haurchefant is dead, and it’s all my fault.”

Estinien growled at that statement, gripping onto Aymeric’s shoulders and pulling himself away so he could make eye contact. Or, at least try. The other’s head sagged in favor of staring at the floor almost immediately when he lost the comforting shield of the dragoon’s shoulder.

“It’s not your fault.” It was difficult to keep his voice under control. The rage he felt towards the Heavens Ward was seeping into his words and causing him to come off much harsher than intended, which he met with a wavering sigh. Calm. Collected. Estinien had to take a few deep breaths to recollect himself before he resumed speaking. “You… had no idea this would happen. None of us did.”

Aymeric said nothing, his hands weakly at rest against Estinien’s shoulders, but from what the dragoon could hopefully tell, he was at least mulling over the words in his head.

Estinien’s hands gripped just a bit tighter against his shoulders, his sharp eyes fully focused on the one in front of him, “I swear to you, Aymeric. The moment we find the location of the Archbishop, I will seek vengeance. On account of you, as well as Lord Haurchefant.”

That seemed to at least earn a decent response, given the way Aymeric’s head slowly rose, and by Halone, Estinien nearly snarled the second he saw his bloodshot steel eyes and fresh tear tracks on his cheeks. Carefully, he swiped his thumbs across each cheek in order to wipe the tears away, teeth grinding as he tried his best to be gentle. They were going to pay dearly, this he most definitely promised himself.

“...May I accompany you?”

Estinien blinked.

The request honestly made him freeze, hands stilled against Aymeric’s cheeks as that familiar fire in those blue orbs reignited the moment their eyes met.

Estinien shook his head, “your duty is to remain here. To protect Ishgard from-”

“I understand that.” Aymeric sighed, placing one hand against the back of the armored one currently at rest against him. “My duty also, however, should be to right my wrongs. As foolish as it may be, I still do believe my father capable of listening to reason. For that, I wish to accompany you, so that I might try... at least once more.”

Well, he was certainly stubborn, Estinien would give him that - perhaps more so than he was, and if that request was aimed at anyone else, they would have laughed in his face. The dragoon shook his head, his voice reduced to a quiet whisper of uncertainty, “...Aymeric…”

The Lord Commander had too large a heart to let this go so easily. Sometimes, Estinien cursed that part of him, as it’s what made him do such reckless things to begin with. Yet… it’s also what made him fall in love with him in the first place. So, he supposed, it wasn’t that bad of a trait to have.

His idle fingers began to curl and play with the dark locks of hair that framed Aymeric’s face as he was once again trying to mentally grasp at words. There wasn’t a single chance that he was going to allow the other to come with him, he knew that much. It was too dangerous, too risky. He wasn’t about to risk losing his lover in such a way.

No matter how determined he was to right his wrongs, Estinien was already mentally committed to trying to right them for him.

A whisper came next, barely audible enough for even the dragoon to hear.“ _Please_ , Estinien. I need to do this. You must take me with you.”

Estinien removed his hands and drew back with a heavy sigh as he crossed his arms, eyes trained on the slightly shorter elezen in front of him.

“You are to stay here, Aymeric.” The Lord Commander was already opening his mouth to voice protest before Estinien continued in a tone of voice that would easily cause most knights to cower, “if I even so much as see you try to climb aboard Cid’s airship when we prepare to leave, I will personally deliver you back to this room and seal the doors, and windows, myself.”

There was an immediate sag in Aymeric’s stance as his eyes once more trailed downwards, hands balling into fists as he moved them to his sides. He looked absolutely defeated, and a sharp pain in the dragoon’s heart spurred him into action. Though he meant it to be gentle, his lips crashed against Aymeric’s the second he was able to lift his head with a finger under his chin, and much to his surprise, the other was quick to return it with equal fervor, eyes falling shut and hands once more gripping at Estinien’s shoulders.

Neither wanted to pull away, evident in the way that Aymeric tried to move further forward to press against him the second Estinien ended the kiss, but his hands firmly held him at the shoulders and kept him in place, be it only for now. He needed to be sure the Lord Commander understood him, needed to keep him there until he was certain his words were ringing clear in his mind.

“Listen to me.” His tone was firm as he began, and Aymeric gave him his full attention with tired eyes and a slight frown. “Whatever wrongs you may have made, Aymeric… I swear to you on my life that I _will_ right them. Your father and his knights will not get away, and most importantly, will not claim another innocent life. This, I can promise you.”

Aymeric’s hands trembled against his shoulders as the dragoon spoke, fingers nervously tapping against the metal. “Estinien-”

Estinien shook his head, “you… ever since you showed me kindness and pursued me as a friend all those years ago, Aymeric, I made a silent vow to protect you and Ishgard from any terrors that may emerge. Let me do this for you. Not only as your Azure Dragoon… but also as your lover.”

Aymeric wasn’t sure what to say to that, Estinien could tell just by the way his eyes had grown wide and glazed over, lips slightly parted as though he was trying his hardest to find words. What he settled for, was moving himself closer and wrapping his arms in a hug around his dragoon. He returned the embrace, if only for a moment, before he was carefully grasping Aymeric’s hands and leading him slowly towards the bed, urging him to lay down and curl under the covers.

It took a minute of silence before the other complied, and Estinien was quick to follow him under the moment his armor was fully removed. Pulling Aymeric close, he buried his face into the raven dark locks of hair as the other nuzzled against his neck, lazily returning the embrace. It was a little concerning, the fact that he wasn’t given a true response to his words. However, there had been many times in the past where Aymeric gave silent recognition in the form of a hand gesture, or even a hug to show that he both acknowledged, and accepted his words as being true.

It was just one of his many quirks that made him who he was, and Estinien had fully grown used to it by now.

He remained awake until he was certain the soft rise and fall of Aymeric’s chest meant that he was asleep, and only then did he allow his eyes to close. In the morn he’d greet him with soft kisses and a good half an hour of a warm embrace under the covers, and the following days would be spent lingering not too far from his side. Following him, even be it from the rooftops out of his line of sight.

As rare as it was, should despair ever threaten to take him again, Estinien would be there- right by his side to help him pick up the pieces until he was righted once more. It was a silent vow that he had promised to Aymeric, one he intended to uphold until death do them part. A silent vow, but one that though his actions rang loud and true to the lord commander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel as though Aymeric and Haurchefant were rather close to one another, so it took me by surprise that Aymeric didn't seem just a tad bit more down about the events that followed the Vault. Granted, I took it as he was most likely just wear a mask to keep everyone from worrying, and he mourned in his own time. I'd bet he only shows his true feelings to those he holds most dear to him. 
> 
> My heart hurts.
> 
> Please protect these poor elezen.


	3. Protector

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Estinien has always been ever the protector.
> 
> (There are some minor warnings for bullying related situations in this one if that makes anyone uncomfortable)

Time and time again, the echo of metal splintering through wood reverberated through the training grounds. Each strike seemed to grow in force, lending an aggression to the sound of each thrust. Training, as everyone in the vicinity knew, was something Estinien took rather seriously.

Day in, day out. The same place, with varying techniques. It was no wonder that he was sharply ahead of most knights in his placement, having only recently been promoted to an official dragoon. 

Though it wasn’t enough - he wasn’t going to rest until he achieved the rank of Azure Dragoon, a distant, but certainly achievable goal in his mind.

Once satisfied with the carnage laid upon the striking dummy, Estinien released a heavy breath and moved to place his spear against the stone wall, snatching a canteen of water from the nearby bench. He seated himself, greedily gulping at the cool water and taking a moment to catch his breath. With a pleased exhale, he leaned forward to rest his arms on his knees, steel eyes glancing at the horizon.

Down the hill and several paces to the north lay a different sort of grounds. An archer’s haven, where numerous targets were spread at varying angles and width apart to allow noble bowmen to hone their skills at their leisure. But, Estinien’s eyes weren’t locked on the targets, nor were they locked on the set of knights that were trying to free a stray arrow from the top of a tree.

A smile spread across his lips.

It was easy to spot that familiar mop of black hair, even from where he was seated. Rolling a thumb down the side of the metal canteen, Estinien placed it to his lips but held it still as he watched in anticipation as Aymeric drew back the string of his bow, lined his shot, and fired. Estinien’s head followed the arrow as it shot across the field, landing just shy of center of the furthest target available, the powerful resounding thunk even apparent from where he sat.

The dragoon gave an impressed hum, stowing away his canteen onto his belt as he stood. 

Aymeric was already retrieving his arrow and heading off the field, or so Estinien could tell. If he hurried, mayhap he could meet him before he fled to the barracks - being that the dragoon’s barracks were separate from the temple knight’s, it was harder to see one another, these days. Now was as good a time as any to get caught up with each other, he felt. 

In a light jog, he made his way down the field, boots crunching against the light patches of snow that covered the grass. 

Luckily, he was able to catch a hand on Aymeric’s shoulder before the archer went inside, and though it gave the other a slight jolt, Estinien was soon met with a large smile. 

“Ah! Estinien, there you are!” Aymeric exclaimed, giving a slight chuckle as he rose a hand to squeeze the one on his shoulder. “Here I was, thinking you were far too preoccupied with your act of carnage on that striking dummy to even notice my presence down here.”

Estinien rolled his eyes, “a striking dummy does not serve as great an import as a conversation with my dearest friend. That is, unless you would rather me leave you alone?” 

Aymeric shook his head and laughed, giving Estinien’s hand a quick pat before shrugging it off his shoulder. “Absolutely not. Not when it has been so long since our last meeting, my friend.”

All at once, Estinien’s expression relaxed, a smile splayed across his lips that was met in kind by Aymeric’s. It was strange, the way the archer made him feel, the way just his smile and the warmth of his eyes caused his heart to pound slightly harder in his chest. He only hoped Aymeric couldn’t easily notice his slightly nervous fidgeting whenever he was near him. 

These emotions were new to him still, and it had only been a few months since the two of them had officially declared themselves as being a couple. Or… something of the sort, at any rate - there weren’t any officially spoken vows, but their nights together and chaste kisses while having a rare, short moment of alone time spoke volumes. Estinien regarded them as being a couple, as did Aymeric, so it was honestly good enough. 

That said, it was certainly only the two of them that knew of their relations to one another, and for a multitude of reasons, is how they both preferred it to be.

Shrugging his quiver a bit further onto his back, Aymeric cleared his throat and made a small motion towards the door with a flick of his hand. “Shall we go inside? It is far warmer and would be much better suited to a conversation, I feel.”

Estinien gave a small nod of agreement, ready to follow Aymeric inside the moment he pulled the latch on the door. 

A loud guffaw from behind them caused Aymeric to freeze, and Estinien halted to glance over his shoulder.

“Well, lookit’ this! If it isn’t the future ‘Azure Dragoon’!” Three knights, the largest of which leading the other two, who were clearly trying to hold back their laughter. “Stooped so low as to resortin’ to talkin’ to a bastard born, eh?”

Estinien narrowed his eyes, flicking his gaze to glance at Aymeric, whose hand was gripping the latch of the door deathly tight, eyes fixated on the aging wood in a cold stare. 

“Innit’ sad? I hear lil’ Aymeric over there’s tryin’ to aim to be Lord Commander of the Temple Knights!” At that, the two behind the large knight began to howl with laughter, expressing their clear disagreement to such an idea. “Sad, eh? They’ll never allow someone like him to be Lord Commander!”

The three began to fling obvious insults aimed at Aymeric, who merely stood, frozen as a statue, hand clenching ever so tighter against the door’s latch. Estinien balled his hands into fists, snarling as he cast his gaze back at the three unruly knights. The smallest of the three slowly began to approach Estinien, holding his stomach from laughter. 

“C’mon, why don’t you come hang out with real knights, eh? Not a lowly _bastard_ that has no place being a Lord Commander!” 

The second the small knight placed a hand on Estinien’s arm to try to coax him into following him over, a powerful fist collided with the knight’s jaw, sending him staggering to the point of him landing on his rear beside the other two. That caused them to stop, glancing at the small one who was holding his jaw in pain, wailing about how it was perhaps broken, before they angrily looked at Estinien. He was seething, steel gray eyes flashing in anger as he drew the spear from his back, thrusting it forward so the point was between himself and the other three. 

From the corner of his eye, he could see Aymeric glance at him in concern, but Estinien didn’t care. 

Not now, oh, not now. 

“I will end all three of you,” he began, voice a low growl, eyes burning with rage, “you have no place speaking to him in such a way. _None!_ ” 

The largest knight crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed as he looked at the one to his right, who was currently trying to help the smallest off the floor and examine his bleeding mouth. “Really think we’re afraid o’ you, eh?” 

Estinien smirked, his threatening voice slowly rising in volume, “I could give you many a reason to fear me, _cur_. I can guarantee a broken jaw will be the least of your worries!” 

This was dangerous, even Aymeric knew. Estinien was boiling with rage, and if he would be allowed his way, he would disarm each of the three knights. Quite simply by removing their arms from their torsos. 

In a gentle motion, Aymeric placed a hand on Estinien’s shoulder. 

No response. His steel eyes were still trained on the three knights who refused to back down. One drew their sword, the other, his lance. Aymeric drew in a shaking breath. 

Fighting like this would surely get all of them in some degree of trouble. This was far from a friendly spar, and should someone be killed or injured terribly… well. He didn’t wish to think about the consequences. 

“Estinien,” Aymeric began, squeezing lightly on his shoulder, “it is alright. Pray, come inside, leave these three to their lonesomes.” 

“Never,” Estinien hissed, “I will not cease, not until each one of them is groveling pathetically in forgiveness.”

Aymeric sighed, repeating Estinien’s name with a minor sense of quiet urgency, enough emotion being put into the name to make the dragoon shift his gaze to him momentarily. 

The worried expression Aymeric wore was enough for Estinien’s arm to lower ever so slightly, spear being now aimed towards the ground, rather than the knights. As much as he wished to rip them limb from limb, oh, as much as he wished… now was perhaps not the time. Though he wasn’t one to walk away from a fight or challenge, he knew this to be different. 

Mayhap Aymeric was right, this time. It would be better to walk away. Estinien took a deep breath, the chill of the air doing little to cool his heated body.

“Aye, go on then! Walk away with the bastard, ye can rest assured the rest o’ the knights’ll hear about this, though!” The large one laughed, being echoed by the other two. “Befriendin’ such a lowly lil’ runt… oi, that’s pathetic. Ye’ll never be a good Azure Dragoon, showin’ such sympathy to the lowly!”

Estinien’s blood seemed to burn hotter with each word spoken, and just before he was able to raise his spear to thrust it into one of their chests, Aymeric was gripping his free hand and dragging him into the hall that lead to the barracks. He was nearly seeing red, fighting against Aymeric to go back outside, and he could still hear the loud laughter from the three knights even with the door tightly closed behind them. He growled loudly, the archer’s other arm wrapping around his chest to help drag the furious dragoon down the hallway, putting a sizeable distance between him and the door. 

If it was one thing that Estinien noticed in this very moment, it was that Aymeric had a grip like iron, and was surprisingly strong for his frame. Though he was only slightly shorter, he was still able to keep a solid hold on the dragoon and pull him along. Even if it did take a fair amount of effort to do so. 

_“Stop.”_ Aymeric barked, slamming Estinien against the wall with an arm crossed along his throat. The command snapped the dragoon back to attention, his breath heavy and hand still curled tight around his spear. “That is _enough,_ Estinien.”

It was easy to notice that Aymeric also seemed out of breath, having lost his bow and quiver near the door when Estinien began to struggle against him. Inwardly, he apologized for his actions, but far would he be to actually admit to it. Indeed, he still wanted to rip the three of them apart. Someday he would most certainly get the chance. 

Aymeric’s eyes were locked with the dragoon’s, mouth slightly agape as he panted. “You need not go through such troubles for my sake.” 

Estinien narrowed his eyes at that, “the things they called you… they were highly unacceptable.” 

Aymeric shook his head, keeping his arm locked firm across Estinien’s collarbone. “That is not the point. I saw the look in your eyes just then, Estinien. Had I not pulled you in here, you were going to do something you would come to regret later.” 

A loud sigh shook Aymeric’s frame as he took a step closer, dropping his forehead against his arm as he tried to catch his breath. Though his eyes were still focused on the door, daring the knights to even step a single foot into the hall, Estinien rose his free hand. Still curled his fingers into Aymeric’s dark hair, petting him gently in an act to soothe. 

Estinien then gave a shrug. “Did you think I was going to kill them?”

Aymeric rose his head, raising an eyebrow. It was a dumbfounded glance, like he couldn’t believe what Estinien had just asked him. When the dragoon was finally satisfied with glaring burning daggers into the door, he turned his head to meet said gaze with narrowed eyes. 

“Aye, to put it simply.” With a shake of his head, Aymeric removed his arm and instead wrapped it around Estinien’s waist, pulling him into a loose hug. “I remember that look in your eyes. ‘Tis the same one you wore when you slew your first dragon.”

Estinien hummed, placing his spear against the wall and wrapping both arms protectively around Aymeric, nuzzling his face into his dark hair. 

“...I was worried.” Aymeric murmured. 

“You needn’t be.” With one hand, Estinien rubbed soothing circles into the archer’s back, though it proved slightly more difficult due to the chain armor he wore, he still tried his best. “...How long have you endured such words?”

Aymeric’s fingers gripped lightly against Estinien’s armor, his head moving to rest his chin against his shoulder. 

“The moment I understood the value and weight each word bore, I suppose. Though they do not bother me. I am used to such things, truly.” He gave a small chuckle, but Estinien didn’t quite believe him.

They bothered him. It was clear they did, simply from the way he saw his body freeze the moment the knights approached and began their onslaught. Which was… worrying to him, as those three most likely did this sort of thing to Aymeric before. 

If the other wasn’t holding him in a soothing embrace right this very moment, Estinien would have certainly gone out to fix the problem. 

“...Estinien.”

The dragoon hummed a quiet acknowledgement. 

“You are grinding your teeth. Stop that.” 

Estinien grunted, not even realizing he was until Aymeric spoke up about it. Bad habit. But it was taking everything in his power currently to not harm something, namely those three knights. 

The dragoon’s eyes widened in surprise the moment he felt Aymeric’s lips next to his ear, voice quietly whispering soothing words. Slowly, his muscles began to relax as his focus was purely on the other’s voice, eyes falling shut as a pleased sigh escaped his lips. A kiss and light nip against his ear earned a growl from Estinien, arms winding tight around Aymeric’s back and holding him close.

The archer laughed again at the reaction he received. 

Estinien only hoped Aymeric couldn’t hear his heart nearly pounding out of his chest, or see the red that plainly stained his cheeks. In fact, his eyes flicked to the far wall, focusing there nervously as though doing so would distract him enough to calm him down. Another kiss against his ear. He could feel the grin on Aymeric’s lips.

He knew what he was doing.

He definitely knew that this was both calming Estinien down, as well as putting his mind’s focus on completely other areas.

He had a way with words and a way with his lips. Two completely separate things. Both of which were capable of triggering an eternal sense of calm in the dragoon when the cards were played properly. Which they were being, in this very moment. 

Gripping Aymeric’s shoulders, he pushed him back slightly, but still held onto him. The archer only gave him a smile and a slight, as though innocent, tilt of his head. Estinien narrowed his eyes, placing a peck against his forehead. 

“I am glad to see you are calming down finally, my friend.” Aymeric grinned, patting Estinien on the cheek a couple times before moving out of his grip to retrieve his fallen bow and quiver. 

“I had best not see those bloody curs in my sights for the next month, should they wish to keep their heads attached to their shoulders.” Though he had growled it quietly, Aymeric still gave a bark of laughter as he knelt to pick up the fallen items. 

“Ah, yes! You see, Estinien, I was thinking about that just now.” Aymeric began, sauntering towards the dragoon with bow and quiver firmly over his shoulder once again, left hand holding the strap at his chest. 

As Estinien was in the process of strapping his spear to his back, a single finger was placed against his chest, pushing him back ever so slightly against the wall behind him. A sly smile was spread across Aymeric’s lips as he tapped the finger against the dragoon’s chestplate. The archer’s steel blue eyes narrowed before he began to speak once more.

“Causing problems in the training grounds is strictly prohibited, as you may know. As a hopeful future Lord Commander, it is my duty to oversee and take note of those who cause issues with others.” Estinien’s eyes flicked around nervously as Aymeric spoke, not noticing his face inching ever so closer with each word. “You, my dear ‘Azure Dragoon’, are going to make this up to me, and serve minor punishment for your earlier outburst.”

A gentle kiss pressed against his lips earned Estinien’s full attention again, and just as he made move to return it, Aymeric pulled away and removed himself from him entirely, even going as far as to take a couple steps back. 

“You are hereby summoned to my bedchambers tonight. I expect you to repay me for the trouble you just caused. I _also_ expect it to not happen again, are we clear?” 

Estinien’s legs wobbled ever so slightly at those words, watching as Aymeric began to head off down the hallway without waiting for a proper reply. Turning to watch him go, the dragoon placed a hand firm against the wall to steady himself, thinking over the order he was just given. It was, perhaps, the best order he had received in a long while, and his fingers tapped anxiously against the cold wall in anticipation. 

“Aye, ‘Lord Commander’. We are clear.” Estinien called, receiving a wave from over Aymeric’s shoulder before he rounded a corner and was gone from view. He smirked, thinking of ways to pass the time in order for the night to arrive faster. “Though with such an offer, I fear I make no promises.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to name the knights Winkle, Dinkle and Bourbon but for a variety of reasons I decided that would be a horrible idea so therefore they're just 'knights'
> 
> I can't imagine Aymeric had an easy time during his time as a temple knight, especially with the other knights involved, because while there are some nice ones others are... definitely not... and the rumors about him being Thordan's son would have been awful to deal with
> 
> poor guy.
> 
> but that's why Estinien is here, and I really wouldn't be surprised if he made those three's lives a living hell (and also glaring death at them if they even glanced towards Aymeric, you go grumpgoon, best bf)


	4. Reminisce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events held on Estinien's nameday often changes, sometimes being forgotten all together.
> 
> ...Aymeric certainly didn't expect this, however. When Estinien suggested they go on a small trip together for the afternoon, he didn't think it would mean "let's go to a frigid mountaintop in the middle of Western Coerthas". Yet here there are. Doing just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was mainly written for my bff [B1ue's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/B1ue/pseuds/B1ue) birthday a while ago but I recently rewrote this a little so I could post it here.
> 
> So here we go have some more fluff because I need more fluff between these two. They make me sad.

It was a cold afternoon, dreadfully so, and the thin blanket of warmth brought from the cloudless sky did little to soothe Aymeric’s chilled bones. Even through his thick fur coat he still shivered, seated uncomfortably on the back of his chocobo and occasionally releasing the reins in favor of rubbing his arms. It was a small amount of friction, but enough to give a moment of warmth.

Aymeric knew Estinien took easy notice of the way the chill got to him. With each small breeze that floated by them, the dragoon would cast a glance over his shoulder in concern, which was met by a small wave of the Lord Commander’s hand. He was okay. Chilled and growing increasingly irritable, but certainly okay.

“Estinien, pray tell… why are you bringing me all the way up here?” Aymeric began, gripping the reins of his chocobo ever so tighter when the poor bird gave a frustrated cry at trying to navigate around the patchy snow dunes that littered the mountain trail. “When you requested leave to go somewhere for your nameday, I certainly did not expect it to be here. A frozen mountain top in the middle of the Coerthan wastes does not make good for a day of relaxation.”

Estinien gave a low, knowing chuckle at the minute hint of worry Aymeric’s voice held, but of course chose to refrain from giving him an answer. Spurring his chocobo onwards, it moved to walk beside the dragoon’s, allowing Aymeric to see him proper and also give him a rather displeased glare. He did not often enjoy secrets.

Especially when he was in the process of nearly freezing all the way to his core.

“Are you choosing to keep silent until we arrive,” Aymeric began again, lips a thin line that spoke volumes of his current mood, “or do you just truly enjoy seeing me nearly freeze to death?”

The Lord Commander was not one to whine, and he prided himself at keeping quiet about most situations and just weathering the effects inwardly. This, however, was certainly nagging at him. They had been out here for a good hour, perhaps two, and the coat he brought for their journey did little to stop the wind. Had he known they would be traveling to the top of a mountain, he would have dressed proper to deal with the cooler temperatures.

It was also worth noting that, while he didn’t often speak of it, Aymeric grew cold extremely easily compared to the fiery dragoon.

The path soon grew wider, breaking way to the top of the mountain that was generously spacious, much to Aymeric’s surprise. It was large enough to allow them to unhook their chocobos and let them roam free while they took care of what business was needed. However… Aymeric was still confused, even if the view from here was gorgeous.

This was a terrible spot for a picnic of any sort, in honesty.

“Do you remember yet?” Estinien began after he had finished unsaddling both chocobos and dropping the contents unceremoniously into the snow, “the location… does it strike any memories?”

The Lord Commander tilted his head, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms as he approached the side of the cliff. The lay of the land was certainly… familiar. They were high up, but there was a small path to the left that seemed to lead down to a different area entirely, and… from what he could tell, also lead to a cave. It brought about a strange familiarity as he gazed at the way the cave’s rigid opening looked.

“Aye… it definitely reminds me of something.” Aymeric hummed, casting Estinien a small smile as the dragoon made move to stand next to him.

It wasn’t long before he found a comfortingly warm arm draped over his shoulders, body being guided closer to Estinien’s own. Being mindful of the excessive amount of spikes, Aymeric embraced the dragoon carefully, reveling in the warmth that radiated even with the armor intact. The hand at work stroking his raven dark hair did wonders for settling an inward warmth as well, and the Lord Commander gave a blissful sigh.

“It has been a long while since we have been here. Many years, give or take, though I am unable to recall the exact number.” Estinien rested his head atop Aymeric’s as he began to speak, hearing a soft hum as the slightly smaller elezen tried to press himself closer to sap more body heat. “‘Tis where I slew my first dragon and managed to live to tell the tale. No thanks to you.”

Aymeric’s eyes slowly widened, hands moving to press against Estinien’s shoulders as he drew his head back in favor of looking around. An expression of sheer wonder crossed him just then, his eyes drawing to the large cave below them before looking back at the dragoon. He repeated this motion, confusion masking a glorious excitement that was bubbling up within him.

There was a huff of laughter from Estinien - he must have looked ridiculous, but he wasn't in the right mind to currently care.

“This… truly, this is the place where we first became friends? Where you were nearly a dragon’s meal?” Aymeric’s lips curved into a near grin, fingers tapping lightly against Estinien’s shoulderplates.

The dragoon sputtered, “I was not nearly a dragon’s meal! But… aye, this is the place. That cave is where you saved my life.”

Aymeric couldn’t hold back his bark of laughter. “It has been so long. I would not have even thought to compare it to the same location, if only due to the snowfall. The ground was so green, back then… so filled with life and far less frigid.”

Estinien hummed in agreement to his words.

There had been a lot of blizzards and a lot of ice since their encounter all those years ago. What was once green and bustling with life was now cold and unforgiving to unprepared travelers. The Calamity was rather unkind to everything, as it goes.

“Now, I suppose I should ask again,” Aymeric stepped back away from Estinien then, immediately shuddering as the warmth was replaced by cold, “is there a purpose for bringing me here, aside from reminiscing over the past? While I… no longer mind, I cannot help but think this to be a less than suitable location to be at on your nameday.”

Estinien grew oddly silent, fingers curling and uncurling nervously at his sides; he didn’t speak right away, leaving Aymeric staring at him with a raised brow in concern. He almost thought to ask again, that was, until the dragoon shook his head. Slowly Estinien rose a finger, parted his lips, and…

...Swiftly turned his back to Aymeric with a rumbling growl, leaving him far more confused than prior.

“Are you… are you alright, my friend?” The Lord Commander was growing further curious, if not concerned. Truly, he couldn’t quite remember a time where he had seen Estinien grow so nervous so quickly. Turned away from him, grumbling under his breath, and refusing to face him - it was all… certainly new.

What’s more, he seemed to be fiddling with something in his hands, given the subtle movements of his arms.

“Just… wait. Wait right there, a moment.” Estinien’s voice drew Aymeric out of his stupor with the rough tones it held.

The usual low growl came from him, whenever he was truly upset over something or having an inner war with his thoughts.

Though it pained him to not ask again and go to his friend’s side to see about aiding him with whatever problem had suddenly arisen, Aymeric obeyed. It was once again growing cold, his limbs shivering as he was forced to stand in place and weather the biting chill. Cupping his hands in front of his face, he listened to Estinien’s low growling - though unable to make out what words he was mumbling to himself - and breathed out, his warm breath doing wonders to his hands and reddened nose.

The Lord Commander debated simply leaving to go find and return with some firewood, and if the past was anything to go by, Estinien would allow it and still be in an inner thought war with himself by the time he returned.

“Aymeric.”

Estinien’s voice, sudden and loud, made the other jump, but it was enough to gain his full attention before he continued.

“I know all of this sudden… mayhap more so than I would have liked it to be.” There was a slow exhale as Estinien rose his head, turning to _finally_ face Aymeric proper, even if his hands remained behind his back. “Bringing you here on such short notice... and on my nameday, at no less. I am certain you would have wished to take me somewhere a little… _nicer_ , than this.”

Aymeric shook his head, parting his lips to offer a disagreement (because if this is where Estinien wished to go, then by all means, that was his right), but was swiftly interrupted by a firm shake of the dragoon’s head.

“Do not speak. Not yet. Just listen.”

Once more Aymeric obeyed, watching him with intrigued icy blue eyes.

“This place, as worse for wear as it may be, truly means more to me than you know. ‘Twas where I slew my first dragon. Where I made my first friend, whom soon became my beloved.” Estinien halted a moment, clearing his throat and lowering his head to stare at the ground. “...This very spot is where my future shifted and changed for the better, and in meeting you… I found the hope and warmth I never knew I had discarded.”

Aymeric’s expression shifted into a smile as warm as the sun, nearly a grin on his lips. Estinien was rarely like this. He was a man of few words, one that chose to express himself through actions rather than speeches. Yet when he did try, he was… sweet. Poetic in some sense, depending on the day. Aymeric loved when the dragoon had these moments; when he’d speak softly and weave his words with as much love as he could muster.

A slow nod was all Aymeric gave Estinien as encouragement to continue onwards.

“Through these years, Aymeric, you have supported me. Lifted me from the ground and pieced me back together and I… I know not where I would be now, had I not met you. Had you not loosed an arrow into that dragon’s eye and saved my life, I would not be here today. Would not be able to make this speech where we stand at present.”

Estinien worried his lower lip between his teeth, and from what Aymeric could tell, a slight shade of red was also dusting his cheeks. It was hard to see with the helmet, in honesty. To which as though reading his thoughts, Estinien soon lifted the helmet off his head with ease befitting years of experience and knelt, placing it down between them in the snow with his head bowed.

“I know not what your response may be,” Estinien’s voice was noticeably shaking, fighting with his words and stumbling over a few in effort to keep himself in control, “and I truly hope, by some miracle, you will not reject this…”

Aymeric’s eyes grew wide. A light red rose to his cheeks as he watched the dragoon slowly draw a small deep blue box from behind his back, decorated with ornate golden patterns that were little in comparison to the object inside. With shaking hands, Estinien forced the box open, revealing a beautiful band of white gold that held a brilliant blue sapphire at the top.

“Estinien, this is…?” Aymeric’s eyes were shining as he gazed at the brilliant ring, watching the sun’s rays dance across the sparkling sapphire.

“My dearest beloved,” Estinien began, head still lowered and voice now far more nervous than before, “will you allow me the honor of your hand in marriage? So that we may be bonded forever more?”

If there was at all any trace of cold that once chilled Aymeric’s bones, it was replaced by a soothing warmth that ran from the tips of his ears to his toes. His mind, once racing, was now a peaceful silence - stilled and relaxed as he gazed at his beloved whom was still trembling nervously. He had taken only a single step forward when Estinien interrupted him again with a sudden outburst.

“I know,” He spoke quickly, stumbling over his words as he held the box in his hands firm and still, “that such oaths are not for us. That such a thing could be… frowned upon, should it be discovered. The Lord Commander of the Temple Knights and the Azure Dragoon-”

Aymeric gave a quiet sigh as he dropped to his knees, and the dragoon was silenced immediately as cold hands pressed against his warm cheeks. Moving slowly, the Lord Commander touched their lips together in a gentle kiss meant to soothe and and place Estinien at ease. He was still rigid, but Aymeric felt him press into the kiss ever so slightly. It was enough to reassure, enough to comfort.

“Aye,” Aymeric’s voice was quiet as he began, but warm as he touched his forehead to Estinien’s and gave a breathless huff of laughter, “I understand such vows are beyond us, my dearest. But I care not. Full glad would I be to allow my hand to be taken by someone whom I hold so dear to my heart. I am fully yours, Estinien.”

Wrapping his arms tight around the dragoon’s neck, the other finally seemed to relax and exhale a heavy breath he had been holding for far too long. With the box still in hand, Estinien returned the embrace as tight as he could, earning a laugh from Aymeric as he felt the gentle kisses being placed upon his neck. The dragoon was overjoyed, apparent just from the curve on Estinien’s lips with each kiss placed.

That happiness too carried over to Aymeric. Being able to see his dragoon so elated sent his heart soaring into the clouds, heart pounding so loud he was certain Estinien could hear it. This was peace, a loving, joyous peace for both of them.

It had been a long while since he had heard Estinien laugh so quietly, but with such warmth in his usually rough voice - Aymeric was certain his heart was doing as many somersaults as the dragoon’s, if not more.

“Come here,” Estinien’s hands found home on Aymeric’s hips, lifting him gently and pulling him onto his lap where he happily seated himself, “give me your hand.”

With a large smile still on his lips, Aymeric hummed and rose his hand, offering it to Estinien who wasted no time in sliding the band onto his finger. It fit… oddly perfectly. Not too tight, nor too loose - the perfect size, and one that certainly wouldn’t get in the way of his day to day work. If it ever happened to do so, a simple chain worn around his neck would be suitable enough for carrying the ring around on.

Which was the road he was certain Estinien would take, given his armor.

It was near maddening how beautiful the ring was, and how wonderfully it looked in comparison to his eyes. Like an ocean of blue, one that Aymeric could get lost in if given the appropriate time to sit and stare. To which currently, he could not, as Estinien soon was assaulting his lips with loving kisses that he wasted no time in returning.

Time passed swiftly, though neither of them had taken into account how long they had been on the mountaintop until the sun was beginning to set in the horizon. The chocobos were eventually whining hungrily, nuzzling at Estinien’s arm to try and gain his attention. Aymeric rose from his place against him and chuckled.

It was a cute sight, watching the dragoon grumble angrily at a bird much larger than he, and hearing the chocobo retort with pitiful whines of hunger.

Finally they decided it was time to pack and leave, Estinien taking care to saddle the chocobos and secure them before moving back over to where Aymeric sat in the circle of cleared out snow they had made for themselves. It was the first time that day that Aymeric had been carried in someone’s arms to be placed on chocoback, but he hadn’t the mind to complain. The dragoon always treated him with such gentle care, it was such a stark contrast from his rough way of going about most things.

Aymeric, if he was honest, wouldn't have it any other way.

The ride back down the mountain was much nicer than the rest, and came swifter than the ride up. Which was either because they were both lost in conversation and simply not paying attention, or because their chocobos were moving faster due to the promise of food back at the Holy See. Neither knew, and neither cared.

Upon arrival in Foundation, Aymeric dismounted and took the reins of both chocobos, agreeing to guide them into their stables and care for them while Estinien fled to take care of a few nightly duties. However, he didn't set off until he had first scanned the area around them and pressed a quick peck against Aymeric’s lips when certain that no one could see them. Cute. He was oddly cute when he wanted to be, Aymeric supposed.

Though the Lord Commander tried to hurry himself to his chambers, Lucia still found him and stopped him, even if only to give nightly report. If she at all noticed the ring on his finger, she spoke not of it. Yet given the slow smile that spread across her lips during their conversation, Aymeric took it that she had indeed spotted it gleaming in the low light of the brazier.

In fact, he would be honestly surprised if she hadn't played a part in helping Estinien choose the ring’s sizing.

Lucia was subtle about those sort of things, and helped even when not asked directly - it was part of her charm.

After bidding her a good night, Aymeric retreated to his chambers, though he left the door unlocked. He knew it would only be a moment’s time before Estinien arrived as well, so he took what few minutes he had to rummage through an old drawer on the far side of the room. A few bottles of highly expensive fine wine that he had received from his father years ago lay within - now was as good a time as any to actually make use of them.

True enough to his thoughts, Aymeric had just finished filling the wine glasses before a pair of unarmored arms wrapped themselves around him from behind. He gave a huff of laughter as lips found their way to his neck, kissing and tasting in careful motions that left him exhaling a pleased sigh. Those lips found their way to his jawline, all the way up to his ear before he gave a gentle nudge against Estinien to stop him.

The wine was far too good to simply let go to waste, after all.

The rest of the evening was spent in the company of one another. Sharing stories around alcohol and a burning hearth as well as discussing their future, their plans for life together. Though it was difficult, and they both knew it - they would be unable to truly settle until the war was finally over. After then, perhaps… but only after.

A silence soon fell, but once a small amount of time had passed, Aymeric found lips once again on his neck. The alcohol had finished and his head was in a haze, so he allowed Estinien to climb onto him on the couch, pushing him down so he could lay flat against him. It was warm; fully comfortable as the dragoon sprawled across him, cuddling him close to his body with Aymeric resting his head atop his.

That mountaintop, be it small and perhaps normal to the eyes of another would forever hold a special place in both of their hearts - a place that through fate, their lives were intertwined and woven with a loving thread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucia had to deal with their constant pining for a very very long time and it was driving her mad so eventually she just forced them both to be together and finally admit their feelings.
> 
> Which now lead to them getting married, bless Lucia, she's the best.


	5. Fragility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night was far too cold. On frigid winds did a terrible feeling of dread venture, only to soon find its mark in the dead of night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a lot darker than what I normally write but I treated it more so as a challenge than anything else, just because this was one of those horrid late night ideas that wouldn't leave me alone no matter how hard I tried
> 
> Beforehand: i'm sorry, but i'm also not, the recent 3.3 liveletter ruined me and inspired this a little because of _that one screenshot_. It killed my heart.
> 
> This does take place right after the events of 3.2, so it has some spoilers for that. Sorta.

It had been a long day, and the weariness that tugged at Aymeric reminded him of a strong weight on his shoulders. The walk to his bedchambers felt desperately long tonight - perhaps due to the unnatural cold that had settled within the halls. The braziers that supplied a steady flow of heat to this portion of the barracks were unlit, casting an inky darkness that was only worn away by the moon.

He shivered a little, rubbing his arms as he made his way through his bedchamber door and bolted it firm behind him. 

Full glad he was to finally be in a place he could truly relax, but the cold was far from being gone. The fireplace in the seating area had dimmed down to mere embers, and as Aymeric reached to prod at them with the tip of his blade, it was clear that this entire section had gone unnoticed to the nightly patrol. Which being that it was Lucia tonight, was rather… odd, in many ways. She never left the fire untended. Never let the braziers fizzle to ashes.

Perhaps she had just been too busy with her other nightly chores, and hadn’t quite arrived to take care of this area just yet, he reasoned.

Aymeric gave a quiet huff as he carefully move to relight the fire, watching it roar to life in a mere instant. He gave a pleased smile, holding his hands in front of the flames in order to warm his chilled fingers. Tonight was far too cold. The recent blizzards had been fierce, going as far as to leave most of his knights stationary in their barracks. 

Life as a whole seemed to come to a startling halt due to the weather, turning the Holy See into a desolate wasteland of snow and ice.

It was only tonight that the moon shone bright in the sky, casting a much needed relief over the city as the blizzards were finally at ease.

Standing, Aymeric rose his arms and stretched them above his head, addressing the kinks in his back that a very much needed massage would be required to fix. Tempted as he was to leave momentarily to light the braziers in the hall, he decided it best to leave them alone for now. It was no concern of his own, after all - he would address the problem to Lucia in the morning with his simple curiosity, but right now he wanted nothing more than to relax in his slowly warming room. 

He began with his armor, shining one piece at a time before placing them neatly in the wardrobe where they would lay undisturbed until morning. Aymeric’s coat soon followed, until he was in no more than his trousers and simple blue tunic. Those usually stayed if he were to sleep alone for the night.

To which he has been, for the past few months. 

A quiet sigh tumbled over Aymeric’s lips as he allowed himself to lay down in bed, eyes trailing to the far window that had the curtains drawn back to allow the moonlight to shine in. It wasn’t the only reason, however. That window specifically stayed unlocked at all times, regardless of how Lucia cautioned him that it may be a bad idea.

Estinien usually entered through that window during a random hour of the night when he would finally return from his duties. Aymeric gave an amused smile as he pulled the blankets over himself. He remembered how quiet Estinien would attempt to be, sometimes tripping over the edge of the large rug along that section of the floor and muttering a quiet curse as he made his way to Aymeric’s side and joined him under the blankets.

The Lord Commander had to will every bone in his body to stay quiet those nights, and not laugh at Estinien’s tired footwork. 

He tried his best to keep his breathing steady, his limbs relaxed even as Estinien would wrap an arm over him and pull him closer protectively. Aymeric was unsure if the dragoon knew he would awaken each time he’d enter into his room - his hearing was sharp, and he was an extremely light sleeper when he would fall asleep alone. The question was never brought up between them, if only because he feared Estinien would cease visiting during the night entirely. The dragoon would often scold him when he knew Aymeric was lacking proper sleep, after all.

A pang of sadness filled his chest just then, a dull throbbing that ate away at the happy memories and reduced them to fears.

He missed those nights terribly - Nidhogg had robbed him of another, through body and mind.

Rolling over to face the other end of the room, Aymeric closed his eyes. He tried to will the dark images of Nidhogg’s grip on his lover away from his mind. His hands gripped lightly at the sheets as he tried to drift his thoughts absolutely anywhere else. He even tried such things as remembering just how many papers were growing in a stack on his desk. 

Upwards of thirty, he was certain; they had been piling up as of late, and he hadn’t the time to tend to them properly due to willingly lending a hand in making sure the surrounding homes were secured for the oncoming blizzards. 

Aymeric was in the process of counting just how many homes he had tended to when his eyes snapped open - a faint rattling was coming from the other edge of the room, a sound that rang familiar to his ears.

Pushing himself up onto his arms he glanced towards the window, and a strange hope filled his chest. ...But it was firmly shut, the bolt still undone and the moonlight still shining proud through the clear glass. Aymeric’s lips drew in a firm line as he scanned the room, finding not a single thing out of place, or the source of the rattling, before he lay back down and attempted to resume slumber. 

He could have sworn that sound was someone toying with the outside latch on the window.

It was one he had grown used to hearing, one he knew from the many nights where Estinien would join him.

Not even five minutes later did the rattling come again, this time accompanied with a heavy thud that made Aymeric’s heart nearly jump out of his chest. The window had blown fully open, the pane banging loudly against the hinges as the wind pulled and shoved. Gusts brought forth a terrible howling; the wind was frigid, and the Lord Commander could feel the temperature nearly immediately drop once more.

With a quiet sigh, he stood and shut the window tight again, leaving the bolt undone, just in case. It was a foolish hope, he knew, but one that he clung to like a lifeline. Still - he pondered as he lay back down - it was strange. Bolt or not, the windows were built to be heavy, and were not easily swayed by strong gusts. It would take a forceful press against it to cause it to fly open as it did. 

It was a minor worry, one Aymeric chalked up as mere paranoia and a perhaps lack of sleep that was causing him to question far too many things for his own good.

His sword wasn’t far away, and it gave him some comfort in knowing. It was kept by his bedside at all times, instead of joining the pieces of his armor in the large armoire in the corner. Aymeric felt a lot better when he could see the sheen of the azure blade lying propped against the wall, directly in arm’s reach should he need it in a hurry. 

In fact, he opened his eyes halfway just to take a small reassuring glance at the beautiful weapon... 

...Which was gone from its usual position. 

The Lord Commander snapped awake, pushing himself up once more as he frantically looked around, currently without making move to stand up. It was there, it was just there, he knew it was. He remembered leaning it against the stone wall, remembered seeing it as he stood to close the window mere moments ago. 

“Where…?!” Aymeric’s voice was hoarse, a cold sweat on his brow as he looked over the edge of the bed in hopes it had simply fallen fully to the floor. It hadn’t. It wasn’t there, it wasn’t anywhere.

Inhaling a shaking breath, he tried to calm his racing mind and free it of worries - maybe… maybe it had just fell and slid under the bed, perhaps the wind gusts had moved it.

Even if it were highly impossible, given how far away the window was from the bed as well as the weight of the weapon to begin with.

Just as he made move to throw the blankets off in favor of moving about his room to search for his lost blade, a heavy force collided with Aymeric’s chest, powerful enough to send him forcefully back down against the mattress. 

He gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, temporary loss of breath causing his head to spin. An ache had settled against his chest, filled with a heavy weight that was pressing and holding him in place. It hurt to breathe, and he barely had the strength to will his eyes to open in order to see his assailant. 

He almost wished that he had kept them firmly shut. 

Aymeric opened his mouth to speak, to cry out, but all that emerged was a quiet and pitiful whimper. 

Above him and draped in a thick brown robe as though to conceal his identity was Estinien - or what was left of him, in that regard. The sickening lines that ran along his cheeks shined a dull red, giving way to the maddening gaze of the glowing crimson eyes beneath his visor. His lips were twisted, a sinister smirk plastered on his expression as he kept Aymeric still beneath him.

The Lord Commander forced his arms to move, but just as he rose them, he was met with a frustrated growl as the dragoon quickly pinned them beside his head with both hands.

Aymeric was breathing hard, and for the first time in a long while, he actually felt fear coursing through him in numbing waves.

Estinien’s grip was deathly cold, his gauntlets had nearly frozen in the winter’s chill, and it was a wonder Nidhogg was able to even move him in such a condition.

“I have seen all about thee,” Estinien began, voice a terrible growl that reflected the dragon currently holding him like a marionette, “what makes thine heart beat. As the Azure Dragoon belongs to me, his mind is an open book - memories fluttering in semblance to words drafted upon a worn canvas.”

Aymeric’s eyes grew wide, dread washing over him like a tide. 

That was how he knew about the window. How he knew it was unlocked, and why Aymeric kept his blade in such close proximity. These were only two things, and such small details, but ones Estinien knew by heart. 

Scared he was to think of what else Nidhogg possibly knew.

It was a quiet thought in the back of Aymeric's mind, but he was fully glad for the thick brown cloak that cascaded off of Estinien's form to conceal himself from wandering eyes, most likely making his venture through The Holy See that much easier. It covered the large eyes that had painfully taken hold of his left shoulder and right arm, and he knew that if the article of clothing wasn't present, they would be watching closely in anticipation. He could feel them there, see the oddly placed bumps in the cloth that gave way to their presence. It was unnerving, and his heart ached for the dragoon, praying that he wasn't in too much pain.

Still, Aymeric attempted to steel himself, kept his expression as stoic as he could muster. It was hard, however, to mask the slight tremble of his fingers as he drew in a shaking breath. The crimson eyes that bore down upon him did not belong to Estinien, he reminded himself - this was not his lover, not his dragoon.

It was Nidhogg - a terrible monster - and he should treat it as such.

“For what reason do you assail me within the night like a coward, _wyrm?_ ” Aymeric spat, words as cold as the fingers gripping his wrists like shackles. “Have you truly fallen so low as to not fight me when I am armed?” 

A roar of laughter erupted from Estinien just then, and he released one arm in favor of resting his palm against the Lord Commander’s cheek. Aymeric hissed, attempting to draw away from the sheer cold of the touch, but to no avail. It was sickening, the way he tried to caress his cheek like a lover would, and what would normally give him butterflies gave him nothing more than a sickening knot in his stomach.

Aymeric snarled, low and threatening, “do not touch me as he would, _beast!_ ” 

Estinien lowered his head, and it was clear the smile on his lips was only from the amusement of Aymeric’s free hand trying desperately to pry the caress away from his cheek. 

A sharp bite on his ear made Aymeric arch, giving a loud hiss as he tried everything from pushing at Estinien’s collarbone to attempting to knee him in the side - nothing was working, and he refused to budge.

This was so very wrong, the kisses and bites at his ear and jawline only sent Aymeric into a flurry of panic. His ice blue eyes darted, trying to focus anywhere else but this, and for a moment he even pondered crying out. In fact, deciding it may be the best course of action, the Lord Commander opened his mouth-

...But was silenced from sheer dread as Estinien’s hand crept to his neck, gripping lightly, trailing his thumb over the center in a delicate motion.

“Every weakness that wears on thy shoulders… I knoweth all.” The whisper was hissed, amused as though this were a game of cat and mouse. 

Aymeric worried his bottom lip between his teeth, and held terribly still as though frozen like a statue.

“Here,” a powerful grip around his neck made Aymeric jerk, whimpering at the touch that was anything but delicate, “is the area thine feareth most. ‘Tis amusing, is it not? The fragility of man, how ye crumble so swiftly at the mere touch of another.”

“Coward,” Aymeric wheezed, voice clearly strained against the force around his neck, “using him… to do this…”

Estinien rose his head, smile replaced by a grin. “‘Twas a necessity. In a single night, I will have slew two birds with one stone. As I break thee, so too will follow the mind of The Azure Dragoon.”

Aymeric narrowed his eyes, fingers clawing at Estinien’s frigid gauntlet, but he did not let up. Nay, in fact, his grip only seemed to grow tighter the more the Lord Commander struggled. Inky patches of black dulled at his vision, and soon his head began to spin; if he couldn’t get the wyrm to release his grip soon…

“Aye, he sees as I do, as it goes. ‘Tis unfortunate, his mind heavily present despite my control.” A quiet laugh, in mockery of the one writhing beneath him. “Witnessing thee, he shouts in fear. Screams in agony. Yet there is naught he can do but watch.”

Gasping, clawing, squirming, doing everything he possibly could, but to still no avail. Soon, Aymeric could move his other hand as Estinien… no, _Nidhogg_ released it from his grip. In doing so, he only added his second gauntlet along the first.

And he _pressed_ , tight and constricting. Hard enough for Aymeric to see stars as darkness clouded his vision, lack of breath finally taking its toll. His mind swirled, hands giving a final desperate pry before falling limp at his side, giving out entirely. 

“May thine heart burn terribly - a remembrance of mine mate, long lost to thy dragoon’s vengeful driven spear!” 

Aymeric wasn’t sure if Nidhogg was howling at him or Estinien at this moment. This too, was an act of vengeance; he should’ve known. It was in one of Estinien’s reports, on their way up Sohm Al they had reached the final stretch - but not before being stopped by Nidhogg’s consort, Tioman.

They slew her, Aymeric knew that much; he also recalled a remark about how Estinien’s chest had erupted into a fiery burn directly after, as Nidhogg’s heart screamed in pain at the loss of his mate.

Now, it was obvious he planned to return the favor.

There was a numbness seeping in, and though he could tell his eyes were barely open, he could see nothing. Only hear, as Nidhogg laughed at his shallow breaths and finally still body, those claws attacking him at his weakest point. The point that ordinarily would be off limits to most. 

It was something strange, Aymeric knew, just how fearful he was about hands being anywhere near his neck unless prompted.

Knowing that Nidhogg had infiltrated Estinien’s mind and took it apart to the point of knowing his weaknesses was terrifying. As consciousness was slipping from his grasp, Aymeric couldn’t help but wonder if the wyrm too knew what joy this area could bring if it were Estinien in control. The feather light kisses pressed to the side of his neck would have him humming, shivering as delight would overtake him.

The dragoon knew his limits, and knew the areas on Aymeric that were more sensitive than others - these areas were ones he would treat with care, and a delicacy that belittled his usual rough nature. 

Nidhogg knew this. Knew this, and turned the tables. Maybe Aymeric himself was foolish, he mused, unable to even stop Nidhogg from overtaking his lover, and now he as well. Maybe… maybe hope truly was lost, and this was finally the end - he said a silent, desperate prayer to Halone in hopes that this was some horrible, twisted nightmare and he would awaken soon. 

But the pain against his throat was all too real, and he knew far better.

“Slumber, fleshling - wither away, and so too shall he follow.”

It was a final hiss, but one that Aymeric picked up on before darkness gripped him entirely. He faded, mind still as he fell to slumber. Only then did the vice around his neck release itself.

In the morn, the Holy See drew into a panic.

Lucia paced, having woken to find the Lord Commander neither in the study, or his office. He was nowhere to be seen, and a knight confirmed him to have headed towards his bedchambers at a rather decent hour of the night. She marched there in a brisk stride, fully certain that if he had gone there, he would have woken by now. Would have already reported to the Congregation to start the day. 

She flung the door open in a haste, and was met with shock. 

The bed was in poor shape, his azure blade kicked far underneath it out of reach. The blankets were strewn haphazardly, the fire completely fizzled away, and the room was frigid. A lone window at the edge of the room was fully opened, and from what she could tell by the footprints in the snow on the sill, someone had been here.

They would launch a search party, an investigation to find whom had spirited their Lord Commander away into the night.

But he would not be found, already whisked away on dark wings into an unknown sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to make a joke about the prince being kidnapped by a dragon but I don't feel like it's appropriate
> 
> so i'll just see myself out the door over there now.
> 
> Nidhogg's speech patterns both confuse and delight me but the important thing to note here is that I tried please don't judge me too hard


	6. Mend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a reason many who are thrown into the Vault don't make it out alive.

The depths of the Vault - a place spoken of in hushed whispers by the inhabitants of Ishgard.

A place of misery. A darkened abyss that many ceased to emerge from once they were taken there. Lit only by the cold luminescence of torches bracketed to the stone walls, they were strewn in such a fashion where the dark could not fully be consumed by the light.

It was hard to see. Hard to _breathe_.

The air was thick with the stench of death and decay, musty and humid. Blood seemed to coat the lungs with every breath drawn - a memory, a threat of what once was, and what soon shall come. For the one that sat in the cell at the end of the winding hall, chained and stripped of his armor, his expression held strong despite these fears.

The Lord Commander was stoic, even while locked away and branded a vile heretic.

He could barely move. The shackles wrapped around his bare wrists were far too tight, and any movement only burned the metal against his skin. With arms held above his head, he was forced to kneel, flesh in painful contact with the cobbled floor despite the trousers they so graciously left him with.

His simple blue tunic and black pants - it wasn’t much, but it was enough to provide even the slightest of comfort as his alert eyes darted back and forth, trying to adjust to the swirling darkness.

In his mind, his thoughts were raging; he knew he should have put up more of a fight when they pulled him here. Knew he should struggled, tried to flee, _anything_ to avoid _this_. Yet he did not. He did no such thing, and simply allowed it to happen.

What a fool he was, he supposed.

What a _fool_ he was, to wager a father that had long since discarded him for power would even think to hear his reasonings. To reconsider, and build a brighter foundation not forged by deceitful, crumbling stones. It was a wish that fell upon deaf ears and stubborn refusals- and now he was paying the price for even making an attempt at changing his father’s mind.

Aymeric didn’t how long he had been trapped down here. Time seemed to fly to and fro, and in fits of drifting in and out of consciousness with a body that yearned for rest, he didn’t even know the time of day. It was maddening.

There were no windows. Not down this far. No solace, no comfort of the sun’s warming rays; only the chill of weathered stone walls that sent a frigid jolt to his very core.

Members of the Heavens’ Ward would visit him on occasion, some merely with questions and nothing more. Others would have their way before they left - lashings, beatings, howling in laughter as he was forced to endure their assaults. All the while he kept his face frozen in a glare cold as the stone beneath his knees, refusing to meet their questions with affirmative answers.

He would not break. Not when so many were counting on him. Not when so many _needed_ him to stay strong.

Aymeric’s wounds ached. His body was screaming to be freed from this torment, but he did not falter. He would not give them the pleasure of hearing him cry out, would not give them the joy of seeing him crumble. He was strong, for Ishgard and her people.

He didn’t know when he had dozed off, or how long he had actually been asleep, but a hand on his chin drew him from slumber and forced his eyes to drearily open to lock with his assailant. Immediately his lips drew in a thin line, brow narrowing into a glare. All of the members of the Ward had visited, each and every one - except _him_.

Now, he here was, delivering a confident smirk as he looked upon the Lord Commander kneeling helpless before him.

_Zephirin._

The knight seemed to take joy in what he did. As he tore into Aymeric with a sharpened knife, kicked him and punched him hard in wounds that had not yet healed, a sickened smile didn’t fade once from his lips. The Lord Commander worried his bottom lip between his teeth, biting hard enough to taste blood as he struggled to keep himself silent.

Struggled, and soon failed - a lash against his thigh, against an already made wound caused the dam to break.

Aymeric screamed, loud and pained, and it gave his assailant a strange form of pleasure to hear it.

Stabbing, prodding, lashing - he couldn’t keep himself quieted. Each blow was met with a whimper, his eyes squeezing shut at the burn of tears. Aymeric’s mind was swirling, his vision had long since grown hazy, and now he was struggling to keep himself awake.

It had gone for too long. The torture, both physical and mental… it was too much. He was breaking just as they wanted, shattering and trying to keep hold on himself, to cling to the pieces that were slowly being peeled away...

...And then, they brought it forth.

Aymeric’s entire world seemed to stop in that exact moment. A lone knight appeared behind Zephirin, whom stepped behind the Lord Commander and grabbed a fistful of dark hair, keeping his head upright and forcing him to _look_. Aymeric felt himself go rigid, like an icy bolt of lightning had struck him to his very core, and he trembled, tears falling as he whispered every denial he possibly could.

The knight held a lance in his hands.

_Estinien’s_ lance, still bloodied and chipped- a sign of struggle.

They had failed. The Warrior, his comrades - they were gone. Defeated. His father and his knights had seized victory, and now…

As Zephirin looked down upon him once more with a pleased sneer, Aymeric allowed his head to sag, allowed his body to give in and go limp. He was submitting, and couldn’t even hope to catch himself as the chains on his wrists were unbound. The Lord Commander fell, limp and unmoving to the floor.

There was no hope left. He closed his eyes and waited, the sound of a blade unsheathing reverberating through the stone cell. Aymeric waited, even as he was kicked onto his back by a heavy boot, knowing a blade was soon to be driven through his chest.

Everything was cold.

A sudden, unexpected warmth meeting with his shoulders and pressing forcefully against him caused Aymeric to drearily snap to attention. Dulled ice blue eyes soon opened, albeit only halfway- enough to look upon the one who was frantically calling his name. Everything was hazy, his breathing ragged and coming in quick puffs of air as he tried desperately to regain feeling in his numb arms, numb _body_.

“Aymeric,” a voice said, “look at me! Hey!”

His blue eyes darted, from the wall and to the one above him. Ah… this… was no longer the Vault, was it? Aymeric’s mind was in such a flurry of emotions, he was having a hard time registering where he even _was_.

All he knew was the softness at his back was unlike the cold stone flooring that he was graced with prior, and through the slowly fading numbness he felt not a single chill of metal shackles binding him in place.

It was only when he was lifted, carefully, and pulled into a tight hug did he choose to actually attempt to move his limbs. His entire being was still cold, but the warmth pressed against him and the soothing kisses ghosting across his cheek and ear made him wrap his arms around the other body in turn. Slowly, he was waking up.

...Ah, it was a nightmare, he soon realized.

A nightmare, but a horribly painful reminder of the past - of what could have been, if everything had gone as wrong as the demons in his mind chose for him to fear. Aymeric’s eyes stung, and it wasn’t long before warm tears began to roll down his cheeks. He breathed, desperate and pained as he clung to the one holding him, as though he were his only solace left in the world.

“Shh, everything is alright. I have you.” Estinien. He was rocking them both slowly back and forth in a soothing motion, and Aymeric’s face buried itself into his neck as his body shook with strained sobs. “It was only a dream, Aymeric.”

Aymeric was in his bedchambers, of this much he was now certain. There were no chains, no shackles, and certainly no members of the Ward here to cause him pain. It was only Estinien, who was currently entirely worried from what Aymeric could tell, given the way his soothing words were occasionally bit with a quiet curse of not knowing what to do.

So, Aymeric clung tighter, curling his fingers into the linen of his nightshirt, and kept his head placed firm in the crook of his neck. He still sobbed, but now that he was certain it was only a nightmare and nothing more, he was slowly calming himself. Sobs soon became nothing more than slight hiccups, and the hand rolling itself in a circle on his back began to also stroke his dark hair.

“Nothing shall harm you, so long as I am here.”

It had been so long since he had cried like this. It was something he did not often show others - only Estinien was permitted to be this close to him in his time of weakness. Though he still felt slight shame for even breaking this far in the first place, Aymeric allowed himself to let go, allowed himself to pour his feelings against his lover without care.

It was fine to lower his facade sometimes, so long as he was in the comfort of a dear friend, and not faced by the public eye.

After minutes, Aymeric finally drew his head back and wiped his reddened eyes on his sleeve, nuzzling into the warm, calloused hands that were then placed against his cheeks.

“My apologies, I…” The Lord Commander worried his lip, his eyes near refusing to lock to the steel orbs that were focused purely on him. “Pray, do not worry about this. I am fine… nightmares are a constant plague upon me as I rest. Though they have grown infrequent as of late, I fear they still happen on occasion.”

Estinien grumbled, “I will worry over you regardless. You were thrashing, whimpering and spasming, and I feared a terrible illness had overtaken you. ‘Twas not like any nightmare I had seen before, especially from you.”

Aymeric closed his eyes, dropping his head against Estinien’s shoulder with a shaking sigh and once more reveling in the feeling of those warm arms wrapped tight around his back. “You are not always here when the horrible ones take me, I’m afraid.”

A silence, then- thick and nearly painful. Aymeric could tell that admittance had shaken his dearest friend, just given the way his arms seemed to curl protectively tighter around him. A deep sigh soon broke the air, followed by a kiss dropped against the side of his head.

“...Might I ask what occurred in your nightmare? So that I may, by some miracle, know better how to comfort you?”

The request made Aymeric frown. His mind was still jumbled, hazy and halfway numb from the ordeal. It was flooding together in a flurry of pieces like a ripped storybook. The only image that was constant, present in each fleeting chunk was the lance - still coated freshly in blood and being held so nonchalantly by the knight that presented it.

“You were dead. Everyone was. The Warrior, Haurchefant, Lucia- each of you had perished trying to reach me in the Vault’s depths.” Aymeric’s voice was quiet, not at all strong or noble for the time being. It was saddened, quiet and fragile, as though he were afraid speaking too loudly would cause Estinien to wither away. “T-They presented to me your lance, and I… I…”

Estinien’s arms drew him closer, their bodies fitting together like the correct pieces in a puzzle. He pulled him down against the bed, and Aymeric followed, curling against him as though he were a shield. A place to hide himself away, where he felt at ease.

“Bloody curs. It would take far more than sniveling runts to kill _me_ ,” Estinien snorted, “I am nearly offended your dreams would even suggest the thought.”

Despite everything, Estinien’s words did force a smile to Aymeric’s lips; a small one, but one that was very much needed.

“My apologies. Mayhap in the back of my mind I fear losing you too much for my own good. What they did to me down there… my entire core felt as though it were being crushed, and I was lucky you arrived when you did.” Aymeric spoke, sighing in content as the dragoon’s hand began to resume making circles on his back. “Had you not, I… may not be here at present.”

A light bap of a hand against his shoulder caused him to jolt ever so slightly, “do not speak in such a way.” Estinien growled, “you are stronger than that, and I will not allow you to believe you would have been done in so easily.”

Aymeric’s lips lowered into a frown, and his eyes immediately looked to the side, away from his partner, when a finger curled under his chin to raise his head.

“...I’ve my own nightmares. Of losing you, of once again losing my entire world. I will not have it become a reality, Aymeric.” Slowly, those words brought Aymeric’s dulled eyes to Estinien’s own, and the smile he was met with caused his heart to flutter. “I will fight the entirety of Eorzea if I must, if it means keeping you safe and at my side, I care not what happens.”

Aymeric’s smile grew. The dragoon was soothing in his own right, when he chose to be. This was one of those rare moments where even he too was capable of growing soft, and lowered his walls in favor of allowing the other solace behind them.

Yet, the dark haired elezen couldn’t help but give a puff of laughter. “You are truly a romantic when you wish to be, aren’t you?”

Estinien’s lips drew into a firm line as his brow furrowed. “And here I was, going to kiss you. Now I am fully reconsidering-”

Aymeric fit their lips together in a hard, but quick kiss that was immediately returned in kind. It was chaste, but as Estinien worked his tongue into his mouth to deepen it, passion quickly overtook. Not that Aymeric minded, of course - though he did take a moment to wonder why he could faintly taste bitter ale on his tongue.

The kiss served to calm him down, and as Estinien pulled away to move to his neck, the Lord Commander gave a pleased hum. If there was any sense of dread present in his body, it was immediately removed when the other began to kiss him, holding him close and making small marks wherever his lips would meet exposed damp skin. Aymeric chuckled, trailing his fingers through the white hair that was cascading over the bedsheets.

He yelped once Estinien grabbed him and forced him onto his back, raising a brow as he looked up at the dragoon that now was looming above him and straddling his hips.

“I suppose this is your way of calming me down, hm?” Aymeric joked, being met with a grin.

“‘Tis not so much a way of calming you down,” Estinien lowered to press another quick kiss against his partner’s lips, “as it is an oath that I will always remain at your side.”

Aymeric smirked, snaking his arms around the dragoon’s neck as those soft lips moved to kiss his ears. He exhaled a contented sigh, “ah, then, pray do not allow me to stop you. I fear I will not be sleeping any more tonight, in any regard. My mind needs a rest of its own before I can even consider.”

The Lord Commander felt Estinien’s lips curve into a grin against his ear, and allowed him fully to set about doing his work on him.

The memories would always haunt him - the trauma, the pain - the scars would always be present as a ghost of the past. Of what could have been, what could have claimed his life and tore him away from the world. Yet when Estinien would kiss each scar and handle him with such delicate care that would leave him gasping in delight, he knew he was in good hands.

He would never be thrown into such a place ever again - and if he were, he knew his dragoon would be swift to arrive at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think about the Vault incident a lot and I'm 90% certain Aymeric would have some form of PTSD from the entire thing if only from the way they speak about the place being a literal deathtrap to those flung down there
> 
> it makes me sad so I write about it a lot.


	7. Flustered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for a drabble prompt, and the word was Flustered, so I took a stab at it and was left with this

If Aymeric was completely honest, he had lost count of how much time had passed since he had first lifted the large, slightly crumpled sheet of paper and begun to read over its contents. His face was locked in a stern gaze at the writing that was messily scrawled across the pale sheet. Messily, hastily and… completely illegible. 

Aymeric’s eye twitched.

He knew the contents of the writing to be important - they always were, coming from this particular sender. Details of the recent proceedings of the dragons in dravania, the current stock of supplies at the numerous outposts, how some of the new recruits were progressing, and occasionally even updates on the varying wildlife and how close some of them were straying to the encampments. All of it was greatly important. 

Raising a hand, Aymeric inhaled a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

He… couldn’t read any of this. Only a few words here and there, sprawled few and far between were legible. Words that, when provided proper context, he was sure would make sense. 

If it was one thing Aymeric prided himself in, it was his reading and writing abilities. Good at both, it took him only a few moments to read through most sheets of paper, even able to finish books at a speed much greater than average. His penmanship was also outstanding, the lines flowing effortlessly onto parchment with a trained quill in hand. Aymeric owed it to his vast amount of time studying and writing as a youth, he supposed.

But this… the writing on this paper was proving a challenge even for him, and he was near ready to give up entirely.

The lord commander was inwardly contemplating just placing the paper down and trying again later when a firm tap came to the large leftmost window behind him. Slowly raising, he stood with paper in hand and took a few brisk steps towards the window to loose the lock, allowing entry to the one perched on the sill outside. Estinien, with minimal effort, climbed through the window and was standing tall before him not a moment later, a thick brown cloak wrapped over his armor to provide added warmth.

“Just the one I was hoping to see,” Aymeric began, moving around Estinien to close the window and hopefully stop the chilled air and stray snow particles from flying inside, “do you know how long I have spent mulling over this parchment?”

Estinien quirked a brow as the paper soon found home in his hands, meeting Aymeric’s question with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Do the contents confuse you? That is certainly rare. I assumed them easy to read.” The dragoon snorted, but Aymeric’s expression was fixed into an agitated gaze, his arms soon crossing to add to the effect. “Clearly I assumed incorrectly.”

“Your writing is atrocious, for one thing.” Aymeric’s voice gave way to a loud huff as he moved to seat himself in his chair with an arm at rest on his desk, head propped into his hand. “Never in my days have I seen such furiously indelicate scrawlings, much less addressed to me. Were you hurried?”

Again, Estinien rolled his shoulders as he placed the paper down neatly on the desk, soon discarding his pauldrons in favor of removing the cloak that was locked in place by them. 

“Mayhap I was. Do you truly expect my penmanship to be impeccable when dragons are lurking just on the horizon? I do believe keeping Ishgard safe is in much higher priority than how my scrawlings appear on a piece of parchment.” 

It was clear Estinien seemed a little offended, giving the low growl that laced his words. Aymeric shook his head. He hadn’t meant to upset him, truly - perhaps he was just taking his job a tad bit too seriously. However, the recent reports from the dragoon had been rather important in tracking the recent draconic movements. 

If the lord commander was unable to read said reports, it would be valuable information lost.

Aymeric forced a smile to his lips, giving it the best warmth he could as he glanced at Estinien, who wore a firm frown and a near snarl.

“Apologies if I offended you, dear friend. I meant no harm in my words. I merely grew a tad flustered trying to make out your writing, that’s all.” Estinien grunted at those words, and Aymeric cleared his throat before continuing to speak. “The information you provide is highly valuable, and I am greatly appreciative of what you send to me.” 

It was Estinien’s turn to sigh, moving around Aymeric’s desk to sift through the papers that lay there, trying to find one that was blank. Once he found the blank piece he was looking for, the dragoon moved to the opposite side of the desk and placed it down. It was only for a moment that he glanced up away from the paper towards the lord commander.

“Nidhogg’s brood currently lies dormant. From the knowledge I have obtained, it seems a number of dragons have currently flown west in favor of warmer climates.” Aymeric rose a brow in curiosity as Estinien snatched a quill from the inkpot and began to mark onto the paper. “The wind is changing, and with it, a strong cold air current is arriving.” 

Leaning back in his seat and crossing both arms, Aymeric watched with baited curiosity as Estinien wrote slowly on the paper. Delicately, as though trying hard to decide each word. His sharp blue eyes followed the quill as it moved, nearly entranced and fully relaxed by the motions it made with each letter written.

“There will be more supplies needed at Falcon’s Nest in the coming days. More firewood and more furs if they hope to stay warm in the oncoming blizzard.” 

Aymeric gave a slow nod, and inwardly wondered how Estinien was able to speak and write at the same time. Truly, that was something. He wasn’t much of a multitasker himself, so seeing this was like watching a performance. 

“Following that, two of our newer knights are on medical leave, on account of a recent run-in with a pack of starving snow wolves. Aye, they fought hard - but not hard enough. If they cannot slay a few measly wolves, I fear the task of becoming a dragoon may prove to be far too much for them to handle.” 

With a sharp dot to the end of the page, Estinien forced the quill back into the pot with a motion that was far from delicate, and gave the parchment a few shakes in the air to help the ink dry. Once satisfied, he folded the page in half and held it out for Aymeric to take, who gratefully accepted it. As he made move to unfold the paper, Estinien interrupted him with a loud grunt.

“Read that after I leave,” he began, walking around to make sure the window was bolted tight before he grabbed his cloak from its resting place on the floor, “it should detail what the other page did not. In _proper_ etiquette.”

Aymeric snorted, placing it down gently in front of him. “Thank you, dear friend. I appreciate it.” 

The dragoon stopped a moment as Aymeric gave him a smile that was surely able to melt the snow around them with the amount of warmth and love it held, and he met it with a small one of his own. 

Though he stayed for only a few minutes longer, Estinien soon was rushing out the door to tend to other tasks around the Holy See. Curiosity brimming, Aymeric was quick to grab the paper left on his desk and unfold it to see the contents. True to his word, the lettering was much better this time, with an added elegant flare that made it much easier to read. 

Granted, it was still rather messy, but that was part of Estinien’s charm, he supposed.

On another sheet, Aymeric slowly marked down the notes provided in the letter so he could easily glance at them when needed. The names of the two knights were also included, to which he also made note to pay them a visit in the barracks later in order to see about their wellbeing. The furs and firewood would be an easy task - he could send Handeloup to fetch the firewood, and Lucia to take care of the furs…

Suddenly, Aymeric halted as he got to the final paragraph of the page. 

Placing his quill down, he drew the paper closer to his face as he began to read. This wasn’t part of the report, not at all. In fact, this area of the parchment was much better written than the rest, much better thought out, specifically addressed to him, and… 

Aymeric’s cheeks slowly burned a deep red, flushing all the way to the tips of his ears. 

In a harsh whisper of Estinien’s name, Aymeric quickly tore that area of the page off, folding that specific piece into his coat to hide it away. He could feel his face was hot, dreadfully so, and his cold fingers against his cheeks did little to ease that burning away. If he didn’t know any better, he swore he could hear his heart pounding loudly in his chest.

Estinien was ever the poet, though that sort of poetry was… _questionable_ , if not beautiful in its own right.

Once he got himself calmed down, Aymeric placed the now torn report paper over into the pile with the others. He knew Lucia would find it in the morning, and perhaps question him about the peculiar area that was forcefully removed from the paper. To which he would simply reply that Estinien allowed a curious chocobo a little too close, and it took a decent sized bite out of the parchment.

Sure it didn’t look much like a beak had been anywhere near the paper, but it was all he had to keep Lucia from questioning him too badly.

Quietly Aymeric chuckled to himself as he stood to douse the candles in his room in order to retire for the night. As he left, he bid a good evening to Handeloup and Lucia, hurrying his way out the door of the Congregation. However, instead of taking a left to follow his normal patrol path for the night, he instead took a right.

The dragoon’s chambers were nearby, and Aymeric was certainly going to pay him a visit tonight, if only to question him further about his choice wordings on the end of the paper he had left him.

Question him, as well as congratulate him on finding a different way to make the lord commander terribly flustered - thankfully this time not with more horrible penmanship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it is a mystery as to what sort of wonderful poetry estinien left for aymeric on that piece of paper but i'll leave that to your imaginations
> 
> (but I will say it was very suggestive)


End file.
